Raju looks at him. Listens to the roughness in his voice, feels his skin. “You called me Rama earlier,” he murmurs, roughly. “Even after the heat of the moment was long over. When you didn’t have to. That’s a part of myself I…”
He lets out a slow breath, looking away and catching sight of his wrist. “That’s why I wear that,” he nods toward the cord, his half of Seetha’s pendant. “So I didn’t forget it was waiting for me, that some day I should be Rama again. But I’d started to think… I’d buried it too long, and maybe it’d suffocated there. I’d realise I’d forgotten I was wearing it, that I’d ever been anything else, and it was…”
It wasn’t anything. He’d realise it and soon after his mind would be empty. He hadn’t been able to afford anything else. The horror of it only comes now, after. But there’s too much else in him for horror to keep a foothold for long. Raju’s troubled gaze, then fixed on the pendant, moves now to Francis’ face again, smile small but growing, fixed on Francis, relieved. “But here I am. I see Rama again, with you. That’s a gift, too.”
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He lets out a slow breath, looking away and catching sight of his wrist. “That’s why I wear that,” he nods toward the cord, his half of Seetha’s pendant. “So I didn’t forget it was waiting for me, that some day I should be Rama again. But I’d started to think… I’d buried it too long, and maybe it’d suffocated there. I’d realise I’d forgotten I was wearing it, that I’d ever been anything else, and it was…”
It wasn’t anything. He’d realise it and soon after his mind would be empty. He hadn’t been able to afford anything else. The horror of it only comes now, after. But there’s too much else in him for horror to keep a foothold for long. Raju’s troubled gaze, then fixed on the pendant, moves now to Francis’ face again, smile small but growing, fixed on Francis, relieved. “But here I am. I see Rama again, with you. That’s a gift, too.”